


Pacific Rimming (Deliver, With Conviction)

by SublimeDiscordance



Series: On Life's Weary Seas [4]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Come as Lube, Comeplay, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Father/Son Incest, Felching, Ghost Drifting, Ghost Drifting During Sex, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Snowballing, Spit As Lube, this is filthy, three way ghost drifting, yes I went there with the title it was too punny not to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SublimeDiscordance/pseuds/SublimeDiscordance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh makes good on his promise to Herc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pacific Rimming (Deliver, With Conviction)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Airwing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airwing/gifts).



> 1: I can't believe that there's still not a fic called Pacific Rimming that actually has rimming in it. Or, if there is, I've missed it. (the only other one I know of has a purposefully misleading title)
> 
> 2: THIS TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE I'M SORRY I PROMISED IT AGES AGO.
> 
> 3: This is for my friend Airwing because he's had a shitty few days and, as always, porn is the only way I can think to fix unhappiness. Hope you feel better, buddy.
> 
> The alternate title to this story comes from "I Am What I Am" by OceanLab.
> 
> Unbeta'd. And yeah. This is filthy. And mostly written in like two hours. I'm sorry in advance.

Chuck’s pleasure rolls through Raleigh, tingling across the ghost drift between them and drawing a moan from deep within him from where he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, Chuck’s head in his lap. He has to palm himself through his underwear, the thought flitting through his mind that he shouldn’t have bothered to wear the offending article. His other hand claws at the PPDC-issue sheets, fabric rough under his palm and crossed legs,

“Yeah, good, like that.” He somehow manages to not stutter, but it’s a near thing. “You’re— _nggh_ —you’re doing great.”

He leans forward to trail a hand up Herc’s shoulder, palming the rolling muscles he finds there in encouragement, and shivering when the pleased hum the action gets sends more shocks of desire and _heat_ coursing through him to pool in his cock.

The last time Chuck had said anything intelligible had been when Raleigh’d flipped him over on his back, and even then it’d been a snarky, “And whad’you think you’re doing, eh, Ray?”

Raleigh’s flippant response had been a smile and a, “Keeping a promise to your dad,” before he’d pushed Chuck’s legs apart and back, mouth descending to his exposed hole to lap at the fluttering ring of muscle there. After nearly five months together, Raleigh’d learned—quite intimately—how to handle Chuck’s rowdier side, knew exactly which figurative buttons to press to have him practically melting in his hand.

Or under it.

As he’d started with broad, flat swipes of his tongue, quickly moving on to circling the rim, he’d glanced over to the side to see Herc where they’d left him at the edge of the bed, staring with a smouldering, unmistakable _heat_ , and had prodded at the ghost drift to get his attention.

‘ _Watch_ ,’ he’d whispered—shorter, simpler phrases seemed to pass between them more easily, though they were practicing with sending longer sentences—‘ _and listen_.’

Chuck had heard them, Raleigh had known that; there was no way for them to filter their thoughts from one another. Not when they shared them like that. Which meant he’d been perfectly aware of what was going on—or at least, Raleigh’d been sure, he would’ve been had the thoughts coming from Chuck’s corner of their drift not been nearly incoherent with need.

Frantic hands had scrabbled at Raleigh’s sweater, at his pants, seemingly unable to decide where to go, but he’d batted them away with ease, sending Herc a look and a pulsing, heated ‘ _Hold him_.’

Raleigh’s dick had become fully hard so fast at the sounds Chuck’d made that he’d been momentarily afraid that it was going to rip something. However, he’d simply tightened his grip on the legs in his grasp, pushing them further back until Chuck’s knees had been approaching his ears.

The teasing licks and swipes had continued until Raleigh’d stiffened his tongue and, without giving Chuck any warning, dived in, thrusting and twisting and teasing the ring of muscle open.

He’d nearly come in his pants at the wall of pleasure—not his own—that’d slammed into him, at the noises Chuck’d made—sobbing, _wrecked_ noises. One would think, Raleigh’d mused to himself, that he’d be used to just how much Chuck gets off on being rimmed by now. It’d taken him needing to stop for a few moments to catch his breath—which had necessitated Herc sliding himself down Chuck’s upturned throat, gagging him to keep him from mouthing off—to keep from spilling himself without even getting undressed or touching himself.

Not that it would’ve been first time. Chuck seemed to have delighted in finding ways of teasing Raleigh, of driving him to distraction, when he was unable to do anything about it. One more memorable moment, Raleigh’d been halfway around the world, giving a speech before the fucking U.S. Congress on _live television_ , when Chuck had convinced Herc that he wanted to be fucked sooner rather than later. Even halfway around the world, Raleigh could feel them, and he’d had to rush through his speech and wave off questions before stumbling off the stage to find the nearest bathroom, laying low until the phantom fucking-being-fucked he’d been experiencing had faded.

Chuck had made a sound, high and needy, that’d snapped Raleigh back to his task at hand, and he’d smirked before giving Chuck’s ass a playful smack and moving back in. He’d sent short, quick, verbal instructions to Herc over the ghost drift, had shown him, with waves of sensation and memory and visual aides, just how to take someone apart, which motions he knew from experience—both on the receiving end and judging by Chuck’s reactions—would drive anyone, but especially their lover, absolutely insane. Only after he’d taken Chuck to the brink with nothing more than his mouth and gentle brushes of his hands on overheated flesh and then pulled him back, slowly, lovingly, three times, had he stepped aside, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, for Herc to try.

Herc, it now seems, is a more-than-apt pupil—not that Raleigh’s surprised, really. He’s using everything Raleigh’d just taught him—first and foremost, how much better it feels when he uses his tongue to actually tease apart Chuck’s rim instead of simply swiping over it—and combining it with the knowledge he’d gained of Chuck over the years to turn his son into a quivering mess. A _mouthy_ quivering mess.

“ _Nnh_ , yeah, oh _fuck_ dad, aw _fuck_ , _shit_ old man, don’t you dare fuckin’—”

Raleigh grips Chuck’s hair between his fingers—the kid’s let it grow out a bit, and Raleigh can’t even pretend to not love how easy it is to wrap between his digits now—and _tugs_ , which cuts off the torrent of filth, wordless vocalizations, and _begging_ falling from between Chuck’s lips, replacing it with a pleased hiss and a jolt of pain-pleasure- _yes_ that flashes across Raleigh’s mind. He leans down to seal their mouths together, both of them moaning loudly when Herc does something with his tongue that Raleigh _definitely_ didn’t teach him. To be fair, though, the sound Chuck makes is more of a squeal than anything else. He can taste the words Chuck is still trying to say, mouth on autopilot as his brain short-circuits loudly enough that it makes Raleigh’s head spin.

His own ass is alight with pleasure. Not as intense as what he knows Chuck is feeling, but Herc is now good enough that Raleigh finds himself gasping along with his lover, both of them sucking the air from each other’s lungs as sensations sing across their joined minds. Herc, Raleigh guesses, might actually be better at this now than even himself. He can hear the litany of want, of _need_ , that Chuck is unable to say but that he’s mentally _screaming_ at them both, the words reaching a crescendo when Herc moves one hand so that a finger joins his tongue, sliding in without resistance—Raleigh can _feel_ the phantom digit inside of himself, and he has to pull away from Chuck to gasp for a moment—and honing in on Chuck’s prostate.

“Fuck,” Raleigh whispers against Chuck’s kiss-bitten lip, gnawing at his own swollen mouth, “Herc, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Chuck surprises them both, Raleigh knows, pushing him back with a burst of strength, his thoughts suddenly clear at the back of Raleigh’s mind, _focused_ as he practically rips the underwear from his legs and rotates so that he can get a scant amount of leverage and swallows Raleigh's cock before it even has a chance to feel cold in the recycled air of their room. Goes straight past simply sucking and opens his throat to accept the head of the offered dick, the motion continuous and fluid as his swallowing muscles massage the hot length, and—

And Raleigh’s gone, screaming in overstimulation as Chuck pulls back just as he comes, tongue teasing the normally-sensitive underside of Raleigh’s cockhead, the action making the stars behind his eyes burn themselves into fucking _supernovas_. He can feel his cock swelling, can feel his release flying from him, cradled on Chuck’s tongue around him, as his screams peter off into grunt and gasps of pleasure.

“Planned that, didja sprog?” Herc asks when Raleigh’s aware of his surroundings again, his dick still hard as granite in Chuck’s mouth as Herc’s phantom finger in his ass makes the two of them both moan helplessly. “That was devious.”

It’s only then that Chuck pulls off of Raleigh’s length, slowly, lips peeling back and—

And Raleigh nearly comes _again_ , refractory period be damned, because Chuck hadn’t swallowed. He looks positively _beautiful_ with strings of Raleigh’s release mixed with his own spit connecting grinning mouth to cock, a glob of come travelling in a mesmerizing trail down one of the thinning strands to settle in the sopping mess—spit and Raleigh's own release—coating Raleigh’s dick.

“I, uh,” he can’t speak, breath still eluding him, lungs tight, “I…”

Chuck moves his head, trades looks with Herc, his father’s face splitting into a grin to match. Raleigh can’t hear them saying anything across the ghost drift, and he has just long enough to wonder how the _fuck_ they’re managing that before Herc’s mouth descends back between Chuck’s spread legs, noises particularly wet this time. For what feels like an eternity, all Raleigh can hear, all he can understand, all he knows, is the pleasure coursing through his body that’s not even coming from him, Chuck moaning increasingly loudly beneath him.

Eventually, though, Chuck grunts out a, “Alright, dad, _enough_ ,” words thick, and Raleigh has enough time to wonder enough _what_ before Chuck’s flipped them both, straddling his waist, a line of spit that resolutely refuses to break still connecting his ass to Herc’s mouth. And then there’s something _hot_ brushing over Raleigh’s cockhead, pushing against it, smearing the cooling mess still there.

“ _Mine_ ,” Chuck breathes down at him, sea green eyes flashing, and, just as Raleigh’s lust-hazed mind catches up, just as he’s about to point out that they haven’t even _stretched_ the kid properly yet, Chuck’s sinking down on him, nothing but their combined spit and Raleigh’s come easing the way.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Raleigh bites his lip until it bleeds this time, because Chuck is so _wet_ , yet so _tight_. He can feel the coating of his cock smearing on Chuck’s internal walls, can feel the kid clenching down on him; can _feel_ a phantom of his own cock entering him, spit and come filling him up even fuller until he feels like he’s about to explode. The walls between their minds erode in a way that’s become so familiar yet still surprises Raleigh every time, the three of them merging until it’s no longer _you and me_ but instead only _we_. The intimacy of it is almost addictive, erasing the phantoms of Chuck and Yancy’s deaths, even if only for a moment, from Raleigh’s mind.

“Get over here, old man,” the words come from Raleigh’s mouth as Chuck fingers fist in the sweater still covering Raleigh’s chest, the sounds themselves unnecessary but still so sweet in their rough, fucked-out tone, “and help fuck me.”

Herc doesn’t respond verbally at first—doesn’t need to, the white-hot _want_ that surges through all of them answer enough—and moves over towards their joined bodies, fabric of the sheets catching on his knees. He takes his cock in hand—Raleigh and Chuck both moan at the feelings of the hard flesh in their palm—and lines up, leaning forward to whisper, “That what you need, eh? Need daddy’s cock splitting you open, too?”

They don’t wait for an answer, simply thrust forward in one, brutal, endless motion.

They all have the same thought at the same time: it _should_ hurt. Herc’s cock on its own is more than enough for either Raleigh or Chuck. And, nestled inside Chuck’s spasming hole alongside Raleigh’s not-inconsiderable size, it should be _excruciating_. Yet, when they’re like this, it’s as if their bodies obey every command they give them, like their joined, synchronized nervous systems give them greater control the same way two minds can pilot a jaeger where a single can’t. So when they all tell Chuck’s body’s internal walls to _relax and take it, let your daddy in, take the cock that made you_ _and fuckin’ like it_, they do exactly that.

The rhythm that they all set up is something approaching brutal in its intensity, all of them hammering into Chuck’s willing body, pleasure whiting out their shared mindscape until the only discernible thoughts _more_ and _harder_ and _faster_ and _fuck_.

When Herc’s cock erupts within his son’s body, they don’t stop, don’t slow down, simply keep going, keep fucking into the willing hole with abandon, all of them moaning, swearing, writhing together, none of them sure whose mouth or body they’re even using anymore. They are full of cock and spit and come. They are surrounded, caressed, by Chuck’s ass. They are being crushed by the weight of too many bodies. They are getting sweat in their eyes, licking into the mouth they’ve wrenched back towards them as they lick back between their own lips as they watch their own tongues slipping in and out from between barely-touching, cherry-red lips.

They only falter when Chuck erupts all over Raleigh’s sweater, Raleigh looking down at his own body and seeing his lover’s release painting him, the arcs of milky, white fluid reaching all the way up to his lips where they’re all darting out a tongue—a tongue they all know is sinfully skilled—to taste. That’s when his own body erupts, filling Chuck even more as Herc does the same, their vision collectively greying out.

When he opens his eyes again, Raleigh is back in his own body, the ghost drift humming, writhing, _alive_ , within him as his skin buzzes. He pulls himself from Chuck’s abused hole, feels Herc do the same, feels the thread of _want_ and desire that passes through Chuck as the phantom of the connection they’d just shared flares to life, never truly silent.

“ _Need_ ,” Chuck whines between them, legs spread from where he’d rolled off of Raleigh’s waist, arms reaching around to thrust fingers from both hands haphazardly into his own gaping hole. He doesn’t’ say anything else, simply looks at Raleigh, then shifts his gaze to where Raleigh sees Herc is lying, panting, on his back. The ghost drift does the rest of the talking for him as he thrusts, disorganized, into himself.

‘ _Need it, need it inside, can’t lose it, want it, need it to stay_—’

Raleigh smiles, breathes out a soft, “We know, baby, we’ve got you,” as he and Herc move as one back towards their lover’s splayed body, chest flushed under the dusting of red-brown hair through which Raleigh always loves running his fingers. He licks a stripe up the inside of Chuck’s thigh, tonguing for a half-second at the point where it meets hip and delighting in the shiver he gets in answer, before he moves lower. He reaches out with his tongue, lapping into Chuck’s ass, tasting a mixture of himself and Herc, before he seals his lips over the opening and _sucks_.

Chuck moans as Raleigh gathers up the traces of seed leaking from within him, Herc hovering nearby, the sounds only decreasing in volume when Raleigh moves up to let the seed he’s collected drip into Chuck’s mouth. The kid swallows greedily, latching his mouth onto Raleigh’s and licking his teeth to chase every last trace, and then Herc is there, mouth opening to do the same as Raleigh moves back to continue his collection work.

Working together, it only takes them scant minutes to collect as much of their mixed releases as they can from Chuck’s ass, their lover humming with contentment between them as they both cradle him in their arms.

“Mm, thanks Ray,” comes the sleepy mumble, “f’r showin’ dad how t’do that. You two are doin’ that ev’ry day if I have t’…”

Exhaustion claims Chuck, a fond smile stretching Raleigh’s face as Chuck’s corner of his mind becomes a gentle hum of dreaming. He leans over the sleeping form to lay a kiss on the corner of Herc’s mouth, tasting their combined release there and having to suppress a shiver, before he smiles wider, whispers a soft, “Love you, Herc. Sweet dreams,” before adding, coyly, “daddy,” and joining Chuck in slumber.


End file.
